


it's time to strap our boots on

by orphan_account



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gen, War, i write too much of this shit, idk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-30 01:27:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5145197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mordecai's hands tightened around the sniper rifle, his eyes trained on the opposing military's base. This was the day he would either die like a coward or die like a soldier, and personally he was shooting, literally, for the latter of the two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's time to strap our boots on

**Author's Note:**

> Just a final fictional essay we had to write in English in school. This was probably 9th grade? I apologize if it's awful and doesn't make sense.

_It's time to strap our boots on,_

_This is the perfect day to die._

_Wipe the blood out of our eyes._

 

Mordecai's hands tightened around the sniper rifle, his eyes trained on the opposing military's base. This was the day he would either die like a coward or die like a soldier, and personally he was shooting, literally, for the latter of the two. He looked to the side and caught glimpse of one of his squad members praying silently. Another was shaking, and another was using a handkerchief to wipe 'sweat' from his eyes. Although it was a terrifying situation, Mordecai felt no fright. He didn't feel like he was going to throw up like he used to. This was normal, and it was exhilarating. The war ground his emotions down to nothing. He used to be a terrified little kid, terrified of the idea that he could be shot down at any moment. That was true, but the German learned throughout the eight years he'd been there that it will only happen if you're oblivious to your surroundings. Mordecai had multiple times where he had to throw himself to the ground and cover himself in comrades' blood. It was disgusting and the stench lingered in his nostrils for a week after, but it saved himself, and by that it meant he saved his squad.

His squad was made of twenty four men and women of all ages ranging from eighteen to forty-five, and they were all very much devoted to their work. As was Mordecai, and together they created a force nearly as deadly as the Finnish snipers in the Winter War. Mordecai was proud of this, and he liked to boast about their squad more than he probably should. They were good though, so why couldn't he without feeling bad? Well, because it was true. His squad was the best trained, best behaved, and the most successful. Everyone was family and nobody fought, and there was just a good feeling whenever they all huddled for mission instructions.

Now nobody spoke, nobody moved, and nobody breathed. They were all silent as they watched. Nobody thought, they just watched. The moment Mordecai cocked his head to the side and slowly rose to an erect standing position, nonetheless, the soldiers all moved at once, as silent as a spy. Mordecai headed for the crates full of ghillie gear and pulled out one, slipping it on. The Sergeant pulled the hood up over his helmet, readjusted his gun, and went to stand by the solid steel door, waiting for everyone to dress and join him. It took about ten minutes for everyone to put on their ghillie suits, and once they all filed around Mordecai at the door, he inhaled slowly. Everyone mimicked him. It was the usual procedure, and it really helped everyone calm down and focus.

"We will be crawling through the tall, tan grass. Everyone, spread out and when you hear the short tune, aim for the guards on the watch wall. There's eleven, and if you put on your silencers, we will virtually go unseen and unheard." Mordecai explained. His soldiers all nodded, and when he opened the bottom section of the door, Mordecai stepped to the side. Fists thumped the Sergeant's bullet vest-covered chest as everyone passed by, crouching down, crawling out to their specified location. Twenty soldiers trying to take on eleven watchmen. It was a simple task, and Mordecai knew how eager his men and women were by the strength of the fist thumps.The moment the last soldier left the bunker, Mordecai slid on his sunglasses and dropped to the ground, turning to shut and lock the door. The male crouched and moved through the grass as quickly as the wind blew which, thankfully, was quite a bit. It was possibly the best winds they could have, since it was blowing from their direction towards the opponent base. The wind would assist the bullet travel, slicing through the air.

Mordecai took his position, set up the short tripod and hooked up his gun, and laid patiently there. Luckily it wasn't too bright outside, and the breeze helped keep Mordecai and probably the rest of his squad cool. It wasn't often that they got a day like this, and the Sergeant felt good about this mission. It was a nice day, and the wind was blowing the grass as they moved. Pulling out a long, thin, metal whistle, Mordecai put it to his lips and blew. He played a small little tune, and immediately the watchmen at the far end of the base dropped dead. Once it was Mordecai's turn, he aimed, hesitated, and pulled the trigger. The two watchmen he was to kill dropped to their knees and then slumped to the ground. Bullseye. Mordecai blew his whistle again, signalling his squad to start forwards to get to the other side to take out the other watchmen. They were to split up into two teams, to take out more in less time. It took him less than ten minutes to get into position, and with one high pitched, louder than ever whistle, both teams shot at the watchmen. The ones on his side dropped dead instantly, but as Mordecai collapsed his sniper tripod and turned to dart back to the bunker, he heard the faint cries of a small voice. Even though he knew he shouldn't, the German Sergeant told his troop to go back to the bunker. They objected but after some convincing, they finally listened to Mordecai and left him.

Watching as they all filed into the bunker and disappeared from sight, the German ran to the wall near the opening to the alleyway. Pressing against the wall, he peeked around the corner using a mirror. Standing there in the middle of the alley was a small child, shaking and sobbing. They were an obvious native to the land that his troop tread on, but the child seemed to be clutching his arm as he shook from fright and... pain? Mordecai looked around, saw nobody, and turned the corner of the alley, and moved his gun to his back so it wouldn't scare the child even more. The German soldier approached the child slowly, kneeling down in front of him. He stopped crying and looked at Mordecai as he approached and knelt down. The soldier took the boy's arm and looked at it, gasping as he saw the words carved into his flesh. 'Don't look back' in the native language of the land. What was that supposed to mean? Was it a message? Was somebody using this child here as bait? Mordecai stared at the cuts before looking at the boy. He was starting to shake and cry again, looking around frantically.

"Come on, child, I'll take you with me and we can clean up those cuts," Mordecai stood up and reached to take the boy's hand, but when he did, the child pulled his hand away and started screaming, eyes wide, knees shaking. Mordecai thought that he was afraid of the German, but the Sergeant found that it was not he who was scaring the little boy, but the men behind him. Mordecai was grabbed from behind, arms wrapping around him from under his armpits, a covering his mouth and pinching his nose shut. His wrists were grabbed and the backs of his knees kicked to force him down. Mordecai fought hard, but there were literally too many people grabbing him. His helmet was ripped off, his gun was taken, and he was picked up. Still struggling, Mordecai squirmed around, but the moment a hand grabbed a fistfull of his snow chestnut hair, he went still.

"Ah, ah! He went still as a virgin being touched the first time!" A gruff voice laughed.   
"I bet he is one! He looks like he hasn't ever seen a pussy." Men all around laughed, and Mordecai was carried off. He now felt arms wrapped around his thighs, hands holding his feet so he couldn't kick. The Sergeant was forced away, and the only thing stopping him from calling out for help was the hand in his hair and the hand that held his lower jaw. Mordecai tried to bite, but he got the heel of a palm in his nose. Ouch. The German was hauled off to someplace dark, and at one point a blindfold was shoved onto his face and a rag tied around his mouth to replace the hand. Mordecai was shoved around, loaded into a truck, and the  driven off to the mens' hideout.

The German was terrified, and he could understand everything they were saying about him. Most were things like ' _I wonder why his hair is so long', 'Are you sure he is even a he?', ‘We could find out real quick.’_ Oh God, were they going to touch him? He was answered when hands grappled at his belt, tugging and pulling. His tool belt was ripped off, and then his trouser belt was pulled open. Mordecai had never felt so exposed before when the next event happened.  
Mordecai's pants and boxers were pulled down and everything below his belly button until his mid-thigh was bare to everybody. He could hear men hooting and hollering and whistling, calling him ' _short stuff_ ' and ' _dinky dick._ ' It wasn’t his fault that he was a smaller man! This caused Mordecai to blush, turning his head away from whoever had his hips. His pants were yanked up roughly and his belt was redone. Laughing, someone punched Mordecai in the stomach and he made a horrible gagging sound around the gag thing. This extract more laughs, and it happened again, and again, and again. Eventually it was too much and the smaller man felt like he was going to throw up.

"Stop, please!" he cried in the country's native language through the rag gag that was gradually getting wetter and wetter. It was irritating the sides of his mouth and it was uncomfortable. They all laughed again and by now, Mordecai was on the brink of crying. Even though he was twenty-six, the German was sensitive with his emotions, and honestly right now he was absolutely terrified.

"You want us to stop?" a gruff voice chuckled. "I don't think we're going to stop. You're way too fun to fuck around with." Mordecai relaxed as best as he could, slumped against whoever was holding his arms, probably falling asleep or something. When the truck stopped, he was awoken by a sharp kick to the ribs, squirming and biting down on the rag when people hauled him out. He could feel the crisp air on his cheeks and nose, identifying that they were in the mountains. No. No, no, no. This was not good. This is not good at all. Mordecai was taken to the mountains, and they were about a hundred miles away from his bunker. How long had he been asleep? It had been a long time since he slept, and right now the German was being told that it was night time and that they 'were going to shoot him until he was dead if he didn't wake up soon.' Mordecai wished he could have the rag off, and, as if they read his mind, the cloth gag was removed. The Sergeant gasped for breath, having to limit it before because the wet rag kept rubbing his cheeks and the corners of his mouth.

As he was going to lick his lips, something hard hit the back of his knees and he was forced down roughly. A hand wrenched his head back via his chestnut hair, and a cool, round tube was pressed against the right side of his mandibular. Of course he knew what it was, and frankly, Mordecai was terrified. Although he had put his life into many, many dangerous situations, the German Sergeant hadn’t ever been captured by the enemy. It was a new experience, and he didn’t know exactly how to handle it. Something was said, but it was too quick for him to hear. However, Sergeant Zingler didn’t need to know what was said because before he knew it, there was yelling and the sound of things being thrown about. His hair was let go of, thankfully, but Mordecai frowned as he was still unable to see due to the blindfold covering his face. That was one of two things that bothered him, though. The second was the fact that his hair had been pulled out from it’s messy bun that it normally was in due to the helmet always being on his head. He didn’t want to get it caught on anything anyways. Although male soldiers were usually required to keep their hair short, the Sergeant had somehow managed to convince the higher ranks to let him keep his long locks. The only reason he had long hair and was allowed it because one, he was  the higher ranks’ favourite, and nobody even noticed he had long hair unless he had it down out of it’s tight updo. Since they weren’t normally at the base whenever the checks were, many of his men and women skipped the frequent uniform checks, and thus most of them had hair that was longer than what would be required. Mordecai always had his squad help each other with their haircuts, but he hadn’t ordered one to occur for about a month now.

He was distracted with trying to figure out what the men yelling were saying. The German knew the language basics, enough to know what they were saying, but not when it was being spoken in very rapid-fire voice with a very furious tone. All Mordecai could pick up was ‘child,’ ‘German,’ and something along the lines of questioning why the men around him harmed the Sergeant, and after a moment, he was dragged to his feet and towards someplace that was significantly colder than the dry, hot air outside. Or, where he was with his squad. It smelled musty, and there was obviously water someplace that was leaking through the cracks of whatever walls were lining the rooms. He was shoved along, turned around violently, and then forced onto a stone-cold bench no pun intended as it was indeed a stone bench. As he listened to more talking, he realised that the talking was becoming quieter and quieter, and after a while it was gone. He was alone, and he was being held hostage hundreds of miles away from his comrades, the ones that swore to never let each other down. They were all probably worried sick about him, and they had every right to be. Mordecai swore to protect them. It was his job, and he had let them down. The German Sergeant let his squad down, and he felt horrible about it. It didn’t even matter that his life was in danger right now, no, because his squad was probably so upset that they let him down. That’s always how it was. Dread flooded the Sergeant’s mind as he imagined just what his squad was going to do in order to retrieve their beloved leader, and suddenly a morbid image popped into his head. What if they attempted to come and get him back, and they all died? The very thought horrified him, and he desperately wanted to somehow notify his squad and let them know that he was okay.  That he was okay and well, and uninjured, and that they didn’t have to come and rescue him.

Reaching up to rip off his blindfold, the man sighed. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place, and there wasn’t any possible chance of him escaping. The German had been studying this very base and knew very well that they had soldiers guarding every possible entrance and exit. The only way he could possibly escape would be through the attack of an outer force and, although this base was his squad’s next target, it wouldn’t be until at least another month for them to get there and by then Mordecai didn’t know what his captors would have done to him. Looking around the dark, damp, and slightly chilly room he had been put in, the Sergeant decided that the only thing he could do would be to keep as calm as he possibly could, and to do whatever his incarcerators wanted him to do. However, that excluded giving over absolutely valuable information, because that would mean that the man had let down his country. By then, he just wouldn’t have a reason to still be alive, since he had failed his mission. Thinking about this gave the brown-haired man a headache and an extremely panicky feeling in his chest. He wasn’t going to do that. No way he was going to. Mordecai was about to curl up into a helpless ball of German Sergeant on the stone slab when he heard a small sound. It was a click-like sound, and it was just loud enough for the male to hear. A flood of light seeped through the sliver of space between the bottom of the door and the stone floor, and the moment he spotted it, he chuckled to himself. A golden stream of liquid light, he called it. Rising to his feet, he walked silently over to it and dropped to his hands and knees, pressing his temple against the cool ground. On the other side of the door he could see shadows of feet, shadows of objects such as tables, and the dull, golden glow of the lights that were most likely hanging on the wall. The feet were shifting from side to side, as if the owner had a nervous habit of shifting their weight from foot to foot. What would they be nervous about? The Sergeant sat back to think for a moment.

The owner of the feet on the other side of the door was presumably a young soldier who was forced into service. It’s how it went down normally in the villages around the land they tread on. Mordecai was familiar with how it went, and, unfortunately, it had been his duty to break into the youth camps and obliterate everybody inside. It was morbid and cruel, but the children in those camps were usually there since infancy, were taught to be absolutely merciless, and therefore were no good. Mordecai was about to peek under the door again when the light went out. It flickered. On, off, on, off. The German couldn’t help but cock his head and furrow his brows in confusion. Once the light went back on, he lowered his head down to look and then gasped. The feet shadows were no longer there and shifting. They had been replaced with a puddle of blood and fairly large shadow. As he was going to pull back, there was a loud boom, and then the floor shook horridly. The yells of about fifty men followed after that, and instead of just one pair of feet, the shadows of more than he could count were there. It seemed that the room was off a hallway, a main one, and something extreme had just smashed into a wall. Well, that’s what he collected from the panicked shouts from the men in the hallway.

The sound of gunshots became the main sound that reverberated through the hallway beyond the door, and Mordecai’s hopes got greater and greater. Could it be that his squad had notified the rest of the German military and they were here? The Sergeant couldn’t wait to get out of the room now, because he wanted to see who was bombarding the base. However, he wasn’t made to wait long because after not even ten or fifteen minutes, there was someone at the other side of the door.

“Stand back, I’m going to blow this door open,” called a voice. Mordecai rushed back and covered his face and vital parts of his body and, within literally seconds, the door was blown off its hinges. Four soldiers rushes inside with guns and flashlights, and the room was illuminated. Mordecai squinted and searched for the pin on his uniform that signalled that he was a member of the German military. Flashlights were all directed at it, and they surrounded him. At first he thought that they were from a different squad, but the moment he heard one ask him if he was alright, he nearly started crying. It was his squad. His beautiful squad had come and rescued him. They risked their lives for him, and he just couldn’t believe it. Of course they would, but he was just so happy to see them again. A gun was shoved into his hands and a helmet was plopped onto his head, and before he knew it, he was being rushed alongside the four soldiers who had broken into the room. His short-term imprisonment had been stressful, but now that he was out, the levels of stress were slowly increasing the further they traveled down the long corridors. Everything was the same colour, and every hallway they turned down Mordecai tensed up, afraid that there might be a mob of enemies there waiting for them to get there, and once they were there, they would be killed on sight. With all the energy the squad had wasted to rescue their beloved Sergeant, that was the thing that the brown-haired man feared the most.

As they zigzagged throughout the base, the sound of grenades exploding and the sounds of gunshots ricocheting off whatever was near grew louder and louder, and the Sergeant’s heart thumped faster and faster. Normally the Sergeant wasn’t this anxious, but he just wanted to get him and his squad out as fast as possible. However, the moment they turned the corner, every one of the soldiers stopped and stared. The room in front of them was an utter battlefield, with definitely more than one squadron fighting the hundreds of enemies. It was just then did Mordecai realise the gun he had in his hand wasn’t his sniper rifle, but a semiautomatic. They had an upper advantage, and the Sergeant’s heart leapt in his chest as he realised that they could all get out alive.

“Alright men, you know the drill. Eliminate the enemy and get out of there as quickly as possible!” he yelled over the sound of gunfire. The soldiers nodded and darted towards the fight, getting as involved as possible. They all knew that the fighting wasn’t just for their Sergeant, but for their country, and whatever it took to defend their Fatherland was what they were going to give. Mordecai ran straight into the gunfight as well, shooting any enemy that revealed him or herself. Although was was a dirty and cruel act, the things these people did were ten times as worse as what was happened at the moment. To Mordecai, everybody in the base deserved what they were getting, because the group was known for kidnapping children and raising them to be viciously mean. The children were used as pawns to steal and terrorise surrounding citizens and nothing good came from it at all. The Sergeant was on a roll, making his way through a bloody, noisy, and horrible crowd, but the moment he reached the other side he stopped and looked around. If he remembered correctly, then there had to be at least some kind of cage where they kept the children being raised like animals, and that’s where he needed to get to in order to save the poor innocent souls.

He started down a hallway which slowly descended downwards, as if it were leading down to another floor. Luckily, it was, and when the German came to the end of the hallway, he nearly threw up. The door he was standing in front of had an awful, putrid smell. It wasn’t a poisonous scent, however, and Mordecai continued on, opening the door and stepping inside. He left the door open, pulled his mask up over his mouth and nose, and started on his journey in search of the children. Again, the Sergeant crept along winding hallways, except instead of being lighted, these were much like the room he had been held in. Dark, damp, and musty. These hallways were dead silent, and the only sound he could hear was the sound of his feet on the ground and his own breathing. Although it was somewhat calming, Mordecai had to remind himself where he was and what he was doing. Turning on his flashlight, he moved much quicker, eventually coming up to a larger room, just like the one above. The only difference, though, was that the room above was one large room that you could walk from one wall to the other and not run into anything. This one was separated in half by a large cage in the center. When Mordecai flashed his flashlight on the cage, he gasped out loud. Inside were around twenty or thirty children all curled up on the floor. They were grayish, and most were morbidly underweight. It was horrifying. Nothing the German had seen before could ever add up to what he was seeing now, and it made him physically sick. Mordecai turned away to shut his eyes, covering his mouth. Disgusting. Absolutely revolting. It wasn’t until he heard a voice did he turn back around. The German forced himself to approach the cave and knelt down, looking at one of the frail children who were still alive.

“Run. Please, run. I don’t know how to deactivate this bomb. Please go, please. Get out before it goes off.” the child whined. Mordecai’s eyes widened, and he nodded.

“Forgive me, child. You’re very brave. Rest in peace.” Mordecai said before backing up. There was a bomb, and it was most likely one that could take out the entire base in one blow. Well shoot. Turning, Mordecai darted up the ramp-like hallway and looked around, seeing that most of the enemies were defeated. The few that were alive were being shackled and hauled out to vehicles.

Mordecai started towards one of the vehicles, but the moment he was spotted by someone, he was crowded. His squad. His squad was surrounding him, hugging him, telling him how much they missed him. He told everybody how he missed them, and then moved onto more serious matters, telling them what he saw in the basement of the base. Everybody was concerned, but it wasn’t anything to worry about at the moment. The German tried to convince them that it was extremely important to evacuate the base and get as far away as possible, but nobody was listening to him, and it was just so frustrating! Apparently they were so excited to see him that they didn’t actually believe him in a way that he was being serious or something. The more Mordecai urged them on, though, they started to believe him and the more they started to believe him, the more they started to urge each other on. Eventually the squad was making their move to evacuate and catch one of the helicopters that was supposed to be arriving shortly. It did arrive in a short amount of time and once everybody was on, it started towards the German military’s base. Mordecai sat back and started to relax, clutching his gun to him, leaning his head back against the wall of the helicopter. Finally they were safe, and the soldiers were able to go home. It was a successful mission, and although they weren’t able to get the children out, they stopped the group from furthering the tormenting of children. The villages were able to relax now that they didn’t have to fear that their boys would be kidnapped for malicious use.

The peacefulness didn’t last long. It was just minutes later when someone called out that the helicopter was stalling, and the blades were spinning slower and slower. That couldn’t be true, could it? Mordecai bit his lower lip and stood up, going to the pilot seat. He asked the pilot what was going on and had it confirmed that they indeed were stalling. Of course. The helicopter had to stall right when they were at the highest point in the flight. When there weren’t enough parachutes for everybody, and when they were still in enemy territory. Sure, they took out the main base, but that didn’t mean that there weren’t smaller bases still around that would be cleared out within the next week. The Sergeant came back into the main compartment of the helicopter and looked at his beloved squad, all of whom had very concerned looks on their faces.

“Well?” one of the soldiers asked. He inhaled and looked down at the ground for a moment before looking back up, making sure he made eye contact with every single soldier in the helicopter.

“It’s true, that the helicopter is stalling. We are about five thousand feet in the air, and that means that we are going to wait until we’re lower, and then parachute out. Yes, there are only about ten parachutes, which means that you’re going to have to double up on them. Four people will not have parachutes including myself, and from there we’re going to have to find some way to bail out before we crash.” Mordecai explained. There were terrified looks on everybody’s faces, and it literally pained him to look at everybody. However, it was what was going to have to happen, and he would rather die for his squadron and country than leave soldiers behind.

“I hope to you all a safe parachute down to the ground.” he said, saluted, and then went to grab the parachutes. Apparently he had miscounted, because there were not just ten parachutes, but eleven. That was enough for twenty-two people, and it would mean that two people were going to have to find a way to bail out safely. It was better than four. Handing the two person parachutes out, he could feel the anxiety rising in his chest, praying that everybody would make it to the ground safely. Of course they would, they were all trained to parachute.

Five thousand. Four thousand. Three thousand. Two thousand. Mordecai watched as the helicopter descended lower and lower. The moment the helicopter reached about one thousand five hundred feet, he signalled that it was time for the soldiers to parachute out. Each thumped Mordecai’s chest, and he nodded to each pair while they jumped out. Watching as each parachute erupted and opened, he felt relieved to see that each successfully opened, and his men and women were making their way safely to the ground. Nevertheless, he was still in the helicopter that was falling faster and faster. Hurrying to the co-pilot seat, he put on the headset and grabbed the second steering stick, pulling it up to try to get the helicopter into autorotation. It was going down very quickly, and as frightening as it was, Mordecai was surprisingly calm. Both the Sergeant and the pilot worked together to get the helicopter down as quickly and safely as possible. They were nearing the ground fast, but using techniques taught in the piloting schools and by older pilots, the two were able to get the large beast of a helicopter to land somewhat smoothly. The helicopter bounced, but they got it on the ground. They landed safely. Mordecai was elated, and the moment they were completely stopped, he jumped out. Looking around, the German caught glance of parachutes and ran towards them, finding his squad again. They were safe, and this time they were all for sure safe. Mordecai was so happy he felt like he could cry, and that’s how some of his other soldiers felt as well because the moment they saw him, everybody jumped up and surrounded him. Many were babbling about how they were happy he made it, and how the helicopter landing looked very rough. Of course, it was fairly windy and made it much more difficult than it would have been had there been no wind at all. But the main thing that everybody focused on was the fact that everybody made it out alive, and all was well, and that was that.

 

 


End file.
